


Satisfied

by reynardthetrickster



Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: M/M, Romance, Whitejoshfeather, mostly introspective fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 02:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6176518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reynardthetrickster/pseuds/reynardthetrickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In spite of the fact that White Josh could so thoroughly occupy the totality of Darryl’s senses, there remained an unfulfilled wanting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satisfied

If Darryl had his way, he would kiss White Josh again and again and again and never stop. It was like a thirst that could never be sated; in each kiss he could taste White Josh’s lips and fill his senses with White Josh’s scent and it never seemed to be enough. In spite of the fact that White Josh could so thoroughly occupy the totality of Darryl’s senses, there remained an unfulfilled _wanting._ Surely, there was still more, more communion, more wordless communication of the affection, the longing and the sheer desire that could be expressed in each contact. Each kiss, it seemed to Darryl, stood for an affirmation that yes, he could be loved, and he was lovable, in fact, to someone out there. It rendered the world so simple… all he needed was to _be_ , in this moment with this young man, and he could quell the thoughts in his head.

As they broke apart between kisses, Darryl was torn between a simultaneous yearning to gaze straight into White Josh’s eyes and an equivalent trepidation that doing so might break the rhythm they had going. Kissing was uncomplicated and self-contained, but once you stopped and started talking you would end up enmeshed in messy entanglements of words, where each phrase had to be carefully chosen for fear that an unplanned slip would let out too much, too soon. And so Darryl was always tripping over what the right thing to say was, it just required so much _thought_ : what would White Josh think of him if he said one thing as opposed to another, should he try to be funny, drop a cultural reference as if to implicitly demonstrate to White Josh that he wasn’t _that_ much older, that they weren’t so implausibly from different worlds and therefore completely wrong together… and _there it was_ , Darryl’s mind registered, to his heart’s dismay, the same old self-doubt and lingering self-loathing. When left to its own devices for too long, Darryl could always start to pick out the chorus of opposing voices lingering at the back of his mind, the ones that whispered to him that this was too good to be true, that White Josh was way out of his league and that, really, Darryl was imposing and he was holding White Josh back.

“You’re doing that again,” White Josh commented, his mouth curling into his lopsided smile.

“What?” Darryl was flustered. What had he been doing? Was it weird? He hoped silently to himself to hadn’t been behaving in a weird way. Maybe he should play it cool, play it off like there was nothing. “Wasitweird?” He blurted, the words mashed together in his haste to say them. _Real cool, Darryl_ , he groaned to himself.

To his relief, White Josh seemed not to notice his mortification. “No man, not _weird_ weird. Just…” White Josh cocked his head and pondered. “I don’t really know how to describe it. It’s that thing you do when you’re clearly thinking about something and then your face kind of freezes up like a computer screen and then you end up sort of staring at me.”

Darryl stammered, “I… uh…” He met White Josh’s eyes, and registered anew the kindness in the young man’s eyes. It was silly, wasn’t it? Silly to worry needlessly about what all this was about, and silly to constantly demand affirmation “Oh, it’s nothing,” he muttered, waving his hand vaguely as though waving his thoughts away. He noticed the skepticism in White Josh’s eyes. “It’s nothing,” he said, in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone. “It’s nothing!”

“He shouted, with a tone that suggested that it was _not_ nothing,” White Josh commented wryly, as a stricken expression came over Darryl’s face. White Josh watched as Darryl’s eyebrows seemed to arch and furrow alternatingly like they were trying to communicate in some sort of Morse code that White Josh could not quite decipher yet. Finally, Darryl’s features softened into a look of weariness. “It’s, uh, it’s… it’s stupid. Let’s just get back to where we were.”

“Woah, now, Magnum P.I.” White Josh said, turning his head slightly as he put his hand on Darryl’s chest and pushed him back lightly. Immediately, Darryl’s eyebrows seemed to furrow, giving him the overall countenance of a hurt puppy. White Josh sighed inwardly to himself. He liked Darryl, he really did. He felt comfortable with him, and was both charmed and touched by the sort of vulnerability that Darryl seemed to reveal when they were alone. But back when they weren’t seeing each other and testing waters, Darryl had been refreshingly transparent and easy to read. Now, he felt a strange sense of distance from the older man, especially when Darryl’s face was so poor at hiding the multitude of emotions that were clearly working their way through his system. Coupled with Darryl’s reticence, these meant that White Josh had to do the heavy lifting in trying to deduce Darryl’s feelings.

“No dude, that’s not what I meant,” White Josh smiled. He knew that Darryl was a sensitive soul. “I like making out with you.” Darryl chuckled awkwardly, looking abashed. “We’ve talked about this – I’m an open book. If I didn’t want to be here with you, right now, I’d let you know.”

“I know,” Darryl replied sheepishly. Every time White Josh spoke, it made Darryl’s fears seem miniscule and overly-dramatic. Everything was fine. He wasn’t imposing. White Josh wanted to be here. “It was just— we were having fun, and I didn’t want to bring the mood down.”

“It’s cool, man,” White Josh said, reaching out towards the coffee table to grab his beer. “Not every moment on a date has to be light and happy. And I want to know what you’re thinking… and don’t say it’s nothing!” He pre-empted Darryl’s protest. “Because – I don’t know if anyone’s told you – you, my friend, have the _worst_ poker face in the world.” White Josh looked over at Darryl, who had also grabbed his beer and was now absently picking at the label on the bottle, trying to peel it off but only succeeding in ripping out little scraps. “Look, Darryl, I can’t keep guessing at what’s affecting you or bothering you every time. If nothing else, I just want to know you better,” White Josh said, grinning at Darryl. “Because getting to know someone is what you do when you’re dating.”

Darryl choked a little at the last word, even as his heart seemed to take a somersault in his chest. It seemed as if every time he heard the word “dating”, a strange exhilaration would take hold of him. He was dating White Josh! Or… White Josh was dating him. Darryl didn’t know which statement made him happier… or more nervous. He looked at White Josh’s expectant face. “I’m sorry… I guess this dating thing is just so new to me again.”

White Josh took a swig of his beer, nodding. It made sense. His friends had warned him that dating an older divorcee would come with baggage, and he had been bracing himself for the moment it would come to a head. If anything, he was surprised it had taken that long for the topic to come up.

“It’s just… I’ve not really been with any other woma— person after Stacey.” Darryl exhaled. “And I just feel so out of practice, you know? Getting to know someone again, putting yourself out there…” He paused to look at White Josh, whose face remained open and inquisitive, and he felt a pang once more at how young White Josh seemed compared to him.

“I get it,” White Josh said, slowly. He tried to imagine life as a 40-something year old, starting over again. “It’s hard to meet new people and make new friends. I mean, I still hang out with my friends from high school. Sometimes in the gym I look around and I think, there are so many people in West Covina that I don’t know.”

No, thought Darryl. It was deeper than that. He tried to search for the words. “Well— it’s, it’s kind of more complicated than that. When you spent as long as I did in a long-term relationship— and we’re talking decades— you stop… thinking. You stop thinking about how you appear to someone else. You just know, and you believe, and you trust, that this person will be there for you. That she… or he, I suppose, will accept you. And this person is going to see you at your best, and at your worst, and you just hope that memories of you at your best are enough for her— or him— to ride out the moments when you’re at your worst.” Darryl faltered a little, as repressed memories of his marriage threatened to breach his subconscious.

“Does that make sense so far?” He asked, stealing another glance at White Josh, fearing that the young man was pitying him. But instead White Josh merely nodded and smiled kindly at him, dimples flashing.  Darryl gulped down the remnants of his beer, and pushed on, “When a marriage— when a marriage fails, it feels like this person has seen all there is to you, and has decided that the best parts of you aren’t good enough to balance the worst.” Darryl sighed and closed his eyes. You sound so pathetic, Darryl, he thought moodily to himself.

“Anyway,” he added hastily, trying to lighten the mood. “In short, it just makes you wonder if your worst aspects outweigh your good ones, you know?” He turned to face White Josh, and was slightly taken aback by the young man’s face which was set into a frown. “It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Darryl mumbled.

“You know, Darryl,” White Josh began, as Darryl cringed and feared the worst, before noticing that White Josh’s tone was tender. “When people leave us, it’s not always a statement about us. Sometimes it’s about them. And we have no control over the choices other people make for themselves.” White Josh’s expression softened. “Look, I have no idea how your marriage was like, and I can’t even begin to imagine how going through a divorce must feel like. But I’ve seen that through it all you’ve tried to be a great dad, and your daughter clearly adores you,” White Josh gestured towards the kitchen where Madison’s drawings for Darryl were stuck all over the fridge. “And maybe, that’s a better summary of who you are than the divorce.”

Darryl stared at him. “I—well, yes – I mean, wow, were you a psych major or something? You’re better than my therapist.”

White Josh laughed aloud. “Oh no, bro. It’s probably all that daytime television they show all day at the gym.” He locked eyes with Darryl, who was still trying to summon a full smile. White Josh barreled on, trying to lighten the mood. “Although, I really think it might be my second calling. Just the other day, Hector and I were diagnosing Greg and his commit—” He caught himself. “But this conversation is not about Greg. It is about you.”

“Oh, I think I’ve said enough.” Darryl sighed. “This conversation could not have had more old man baggage.”

“What?” White Josh exclaimed. “Come on, dude, you’re not _that_ old.”

“Yes I am.”

“Noooo, who says that.”

“You do— did, in fact,” Darryl pointed out. “I distinctly remember you calling me ‘Old Gay Darryl’, remember?”

White Josh grinned. “I did do that. I plead guilty.” He looked slyly at Darryl. “Did you see what I did there? I used, uh, I used legal terminology.” Finally, thought White Josh to himself, that got a real laugh out of Darryl. They sat on the couch for a moment, settling into the silence. White Josh felt like Darryl had given him a sort of emotional hostage that required some sort of response. But what could he say? It was a fact that there was a fundamental disjoint between their life experiences. White Josh had yet to really ever encounter anything exceptionally bruising in his life. Even his coming out had been mostly uneventful, with most of his friends taking their cue from White Josh Chan, and never really making a big deal out of it. He cruised through college, made friends easily, and was one of the more popular gym instructors at his workplace. Unlike Darryl, his likeability had always been a given in his life.

“Hey, uh, White Joshua,” Darryl piped up, awkwardly dragging out the vowels in White Josh’s name. White Josh nodded, eager to be rescued from the silence. “I’ve always wondered, why, is it that— or what is— why would you—” Oh, this is excruciating, Darryl thought as he squirmed. “Why _do_ you like me?” As the question hung in the air, Darryl felt growing amounts of embarrassment. He hated that his voice had sounded so whiny and so vulnerable. “I mean, you’re so _cool_ , and I’m— I’m… ”

“Kind?” White Josh finished for him, turning to face Darryl on the couch. “Thoughtful?” His mouth was curled into a gentle smile. “I mean, I’ve never dated anyone who always asks if they can kiss me before they kiss me.” Darryl flushed and mumbled something about being a gentleman. “And… I really like that you try.”

“I try?”

“You try _so_ hard.”

“That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

White Josh laughed. “It is a compliment,” he reached out and squeezed Darryl on the shoulder. “It’s like at the gym. Remember when we talked about unassisted pull-ups? No one gets to 50 or 60 pull-ups instantly. And so many people just give up when they work hard for a month and can barely get up to five. But not you. You just keep trying.”

“I’m still only at seven,” Darryl said, absently. White Josh fixed him with a look. “Oh, sorry, you were using it as a metaphor.”

“The point I’m making, _Darryl_ ,” White Josh replied, with playful mock-annoyance. “Is that the process of becoming better _sucks_. It’s painful, and it’s slow, and half the time you think it’s a lost cause. But you keep trying.”

“And trying counts?”

“It _totally_ counts.” As he said that, White Josh reflected that Darryl really was cutest when he was oblivious. White Josh crept in closer to Darryl on the couch. “It counts for so… much.”

And as White Josh kissed him, Darryl felt an indescribable warmth come over him once again. Listening to White Josh, it all seemed so simple once again: that the striving and the sheer work it took to be a good person wasn’t a sign of inadequacy, but the best part of him. That the failure of his marriage wasn’t the sum total of his worthiness to be loved. That maybe, he could just _be_. Darryl’s heart thrummed.

“Also,” White Josh added, pulling way momentarily. “It doesn’t hurt that you’re cute and you look like frickin’ Tom Selleck. Magnum P.I. was my jam. I mean,” he lowered his voice. “The man wore flip-flops and Hawaiian shirts and _solved crimes_.”

“I do own Hawaiian shirts and flip-flops,” Darryl said, thoughtfully. “And I guess lawyers sort of solve crime. That water conspiracy case was exciting.”

“Oh yeah! Brave, small-town law firm takes on a giant corporation? That’s is pretty exciting.” And as White Josh spoke, he snuggled in even closer, until his body was pressed tightly against Darryl’s.

Darryl’s heart felt like it was about to explode. “I, uh,” he mumbled shyly. “So I’m pretty cool after all?”

White Josh chuckled. “You’re cool to me.” He moved his face closer to Darryl’s. “Is that enough?”

And Darryl didn’t reply, though it would have been hard to, given that he pulled White Josh’s face to his. As they kissed each other, the world resolved itself into a clean slate once more. _Was it enough_? whispered a still, small voice in Darryl’s head. It could be, Darryl reasoned. Who knew? At least in this moment, it seemed like it was the simplest and most natural thing in the world to be here in his house, with White Josh pressed up close against him as they kissed on his couch. And for now, Darryl was whole and satisfied.

**Author's Note:**

> I just loved these two so much that I wanted to see them together a little more. As the little story came together I realised it was more or less Darryl and White Josh's version of Josh and Rebecca's chat at the end of 'Josh and I Go to Los Angeles!", and that Darryl's qualities ended up reflecting Rebecca's to an extent (low self-esteem, some self-loathing etc.) but that he was also a purer character than her. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> (Also, for some reason Hamilton ended up creeping in, and by the end I kept hearing Eliza's "Would that be enough?" ringing in my head.)


End file.
